Searching for the Supernatural in all the Wrong Places
by Isabeau1
Summary: Keith, Pidge, and Hunk are sure ghosts exist. They just have to prove it. Their campus librarian may or may not be helpful to that end. (cross-posted at AO3)
1. Searching for the Supernatural

**Searching for the Supernatural in all the Wrong Places**

* * *

"I think this is a bad idea," Hunk complained nervously, "we should have at least scoped the place out during the day first."

"You think everything is a bad idea," Pidge scoffed, tucking the extra battery pack for her video camera in her pocket.

"We got the map," Keith waved the paper in front of Hunk, "we know where we need to go."

"But…" Hunk tried to snatch it from him so he could see, but Keith pulled it away from him.

"It will be fine," Pidge insisted, "there's been a lot of activity reported here, and we might actually catch something."

"But what if we get lost, or trip over a tombstone, or fall into an open grave," Hunk protested, "or get lost, trip over a tombstone, and then fall into an open grave, or…"

"Hi."

The three college students jumped. Hunk screamed almost dropping his camera, Keith grabbed Pidge by the jacket and tried to jerk her behind him, and Pidge brandished her camera like a weapon, almost whacking Keith in the face with it.

Lance laughed at them, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

"Mr. McClain!" Hunk panted, "don't sneak up on us like that."

"There wasn't much sneaking involved kid," Lance continued to laugh, "also, you can call me Lance; we're not at school. Actually, you can call me Lance even when we are at school. I'm not a teacher."

"What are you doing here?" Keith narrowed his eyes at him.

"I know people here," Lance shrugged, hands still in his pockets.

The trio shifted uncomfortably. 'Knowing' someone in a cemetery usually only meant one thing.

"Sorry Lance," Pidge looked properly contrite, "we didn't mean to bother you. We're just doing an investigation."

"Investigation of what?" Lance raised an eyebrow at them.

The three launched into an excited explanation involving words like ectoplasm, AVP, astral bodies, magnetometer, parapsychology, and necromancy. They talked over each other, interrupting one another's sentences and jumping in to add extra facts when they felt like someone had left them out.

Lance listened to them with a fondness usually reserved for hyperactive kittens.

"So you think the cemetery is haunted," he concluded when they finally stopped talking.

"Well, yes," Hunk nodded.

"We want to get evidence of it," Pidge held up her video camera.

"Because it's real," Keith added defiantly.

"Right," Lance grinned, "so what's your plan? Are you just going to run around in random directions and hope a ghost jumps you?"

"Of course not," Keith snapped, "we have…"

"We have a map!" Hunk hooked the strap of his camera over his neck and jostled Keith, who reluctantly pulling a wrinkled piece of paper out of his pocket.

Lance took it from him, snatching Pidge's flashlight out of her hands so he could see it better. He glanced over it, a slight frown on his face as he saw the confusing scattering of red circles and black trails drawn on it.

"We're you find this?" he asked.

"In the library," Pidge told him.

"My library?" Lance raised an eyebrow at him.

"Technically, it's not yours," Keith grumbled, "it belongs to the university."

"I'll take that as a yes," Lance gave him an amused look.

"Yeah, it was in the section on local history," Hunk supplied.

"It's like fifty years outdated," Lance handed the map back to Keith, "some of these paths don't even exist anymore, and a few of these graves have actually been moved."

"How do you know that?" Keith asked suspiciously.

"I told you," Lance said with a shrug, "I know people here."

"Well, we can still make it work," Pidge snatched the map from Keith, "it can't have changed that much."

"But what if we get lost," Hunk fretted, "I mean this place is huge, and there was that story about the high school kid who got lost and three weeks later they found his body near that one grave."

"Yeah, we're going to that grave," Keith said.

"But…" Hunk protested.

"You want a guide?" Lance asked.

The trio turned to look at him in surprise.

"Well, I have been here a lot more recently than your map," Lance pointed out, "also as member of staff I feel a small amount or responsibility for students' safety. Very small."

"I like that plan," Hunk said quickly.

"I guess that's better than getting lost," Pidge admitted.

"You're not going to chicken out on us are you?" Keith glared.

"Try me," Lance grinned.

Hunk thought his teeth looked unusually sharp, but it was probably just the weird way the light from their flashlights created shadows.

"Jadie Madison's grave," Keith challenged, pointing to the spot on the map.

Hunk groaned, "do we really have to start there?"

"Murder fan are we?" Lance smirked, "this way."

He lead them down the path towards an older part of the cemetery, apparently not bothered by the dark.

"It's not so much that we're fans of murder," Pidge shook her head as they followed, flashlight on the ground in front of her so she didn't trip over the uneven terrain.

"Not a fan of murder," Hunk interjected, "really not a fan of murder."

"It's just that murderers…" Pidge kept going as if he hadn't said anything.

"and the people they murder," Keith put in.

"Tend to hang around after they die," Pidge continued, "Humpleton theorizes that the negative energy experienced by the murderer while in the act of murder accumulates over their lifetime and isn't as easily dissipated with death as positive energy."

"The more people they murder, the more negative energy there is to not dissipate," Keith said confidently.

"You know Humpleton thought that tadpoles were alien spawn," Lance pointed out dryly.

"Well, no one's perfect," Pidge shrugged, then blinked, "wait. You've read Humpleton?"

"Librarian," Lance reminded them.

"That doesn't mean you've read every book," Keith grumbled.

"I'm working on it," Lance said evenly, "there are a lot of books in this world."

"So is being a librarian like a degree? Or is it more like an apprenticeship?" Hunk rambled, "or is it one of those things where you get your degree in something completely unrelated, then just kind of fall into it? Like running an arcade."

"Running a…" Lance gave him a puzzled look, then shook his head, "I have a masters in library science."

"It's a science?" Pidge's interest perked, "like with math."

"Well, there are numbers," Lance offered.

"It's not a real science," Keith protested.

"Says the guy trying to prove ghosts exists with an outdated map," Lance snorted.

"Outdated maps are the best kind for finding ghosts," Keith insisted.

"Yeah, if you want to get lost doing it," Lance said, coming to a stop, "and here we are. Jadie Madison, mistress of Tumbledown Street, master of poisons, and murderess."

The tombstone was unremarkable. It was small, only a date and name on it, and not even the right name.

"Ohhh," Hunk leaned in close, pointing his flashlight at it, "that's the pseudonym she was buried under."

"Are you sure this is the right one?" Pidge snatched the map from Keith.

"I think so…" Keith leaned over her shoulder, "that's the grave that's supposed to be next to her."

While they squabbled over whether they were in the right place or not, Lance perched on a large tombstone, skimming the dark pathways around them. Jadie probably wasn't home, but that didn't mean no one else was.

Keith, Pidge, and Hunk weren't the first ghost crazed college students Lance had run into. They might have been the most entertaining though. They certainly seemed the most likely to get into trouble. Hunk and Pidge were literal geniuses, and Keith had enough stubbornness to change the mind of a stampeding elephant.

Why they had decided to turn their formidable combined forces to ghost hunting was truly a mystery.

Something flickered between the trees, and Lance glanced at the trio, still snapping pictures and taking measurements with some kind of homemade device. It looked distinctly unsafe and like it might electrocute them if they held it wrong.

If it had been any other group, Lance might have let the specter give them a scare, but with this group it would probably just encourage them. The specter raised its empty eyes to give the college students a hungry stare, then spotted Lance, still perched casually on the tombstone.

Lance gave it a cheerful little wave, blue sparks dancing at his fingertips.

The specter immediately darted away, disappearing into the shadows.

"What was that?" Keith turned sharply, looking in the direction of the trees.

"Where?" Pidge whipped around, aiming her camera in the direction.

There was nothing there by the time they got their cameras pointed in the right direction, and Hunk breathed a sigh of relief while Pidge and Keith looked disappointed.

"A bit jumpy are we?" Lance smirked at them.

"It doesn't look like there's much here," Hunk looked around nervously, "we should go to the next spot."

"Just tell me where you want to go," Lance hopped off the gravestone.

The next spot was a war memorial. It was at the center of the military section of the cemetery and actually was marked correctly on their map. Pidge almost got them lost twice though, insisting she saw a short cut on the map. One of her short cuts ended at a steep river bank, and Keith almost fell down it in the dark because he was looking for things making noise in the underbrush instead of where he was going. Lance had to grab him by the jacket and haul him back.

After that Lance insisted on leading and took them to where they wanted to go, grumbling under his breath about 'short cuts make long delays' to which Hunk happily responded 'I love those books!'

The war memorial would be a bit trickier, but Lance didn't foresee it being unmanageable.

"So there are supposed to be the remains of four unknown soldiers buried under the monument," Pidge explained as she filmed.

Lance wasn't sure if she was telling them or narrating for the sake of the camera, but he didn't correct her. There were actually five soldiers buried there from two wars, and the trio's sources were right. They did get restless sometimes.

Lance leaned against a tree and watched the college students poke around and take their readings. This wasn't a very exciting spot for him, just sad. Men who had never made it home and really were still lost and fighting a war they didn't know had ended.

He had actually looked into ways to help them, but not having their names complicated things, and this wasn't really his area of expertise.

Something bumped against his leg, and Lance looked down to find a black cat rubbing against it and purring. He picked her up, cuddling her against his chest and scratching her chin.

"Careful, man," Hunk pointed a flashlight in his direction, "don't you know black cats are bad luck."

"Also it might have diseases," Pidge put in, adjusting her glasses.

"Black cats aren't bad luck," Lance rolled his eyes, "that's just a vicious rumor started by witches so they could keep them all for themselves."

"But it might have diseases," Keith reiterated.

"Also fleas," Lance said cheerfully and rubbed his cheek against the cat's fur.

Maybe Shiro would let him keep her. He had kept that weird one eyed ferret he had found someone trying to give away outside the supermarket after all.

"You are so weird," Keith wrinkled his nose at him.

Lance shrugged and continued pampering the happy cat in his arms.

He saw them creeping through the trees, while the three would-be ghost hunters turned back to their investigation. They were shadows in the shadows, wisp of darkness stalking an enemy who was long dead.

Lance frowned slightly and leaned down to whisper into the cat's ear, then set her gently on the ground. She ran off into the trees and the shades turned to follow her.

So maybe he wouldn't be taking her straight home after all. She would come find him again if she wanted a home, and the soldiers wouldn't be able to do her any harm.

"What was that!" Hunk dropped his flashlight, clutching Keith's arm.

"Relax," Lance laughed, "it was just the cat running off."

Keith ran his flashlight over the trees suspiciously, but the cat had done her job well, and there was nothing there.

As they moved onto the next place they wanted to explore, Lance looked over his shoulder. One of the soldiers had made it back to the monument and was looking around nervously, gun clutched to his chest.

Lance frowned slightly, but they turned the bend in the path before anything could come of it.

The next three stops were uneventful, except for Keith almost getting himself decapitated by a branch because he was sure he had seen something and run into the dark after it, and Pidge nearly electrocuting herself on their homemade ghost detector.

They were nearing the last stop when something near the path growled.

Lance was a little irritated at not having noticed the musty smell sooner. He had been thoroughly distracted by Hunk making a very convincing argument for the Lebenhiezer theory, which Lance had always thought was bunk until Hunk has started rattling off his take on it.

That was not a dog smell though, and that was not a dog growling.

Keith shoved Pidge behind him, and Hunk latched onto her arm with a squeak that would have made Lance snicker in better circumstances, but not when a werewolf was stalking out of the bushes, eyes glowing and drooling hungrily.

"It's rabid," Hunk clutched Pidge tighter to him and reached out to grab Keith's shoulder as if he could pull him to safety.

Lance slid easily between the trio and the wolf. It looked like a young one, and if Lance had to fight it, it wouldn't be a problem, but he would rather not do that with an audience. Shiro would be upset if they had to leave town; he liked the teaching gig.

Lance curled back his lips and bared his teeth, his fangs growing longer. The werewolf's ears pinned back, and it sunk low, still growling. He shifted forward slightly, and the werewolf took the hint, retreating in the underbrush with a snarl.

He would have to do something about that later maybe, but not right now.

He turned back to the trio to find them staring wide-eyed at where the wolf had been.

"Why did it just run away like that?" Keith asked.

"Most animals don't really want to fight if they don't have to," Lance shrugged.

"It was rabid," Hunk babbled, "I bet it was rabid. We better call animal control. What if it bites someone?"

"I'll give them a call when I get home," Lance assured him.

"Was that the right color eyeshine for a dog?" Pidge frowned.

"Who cares!" Keith and Hunk said together.

"So now that we know there are rabid animals in the cemetery, maybe you'd like to skip that last stop and go home," Lance suggested, amused by their responses.

Also, yes, that had been the wrong color eyeshine, because it wasn't actually eyeshine, but he wasn't about to tell Pidge that. He was impressed she had noticed though.

"Yes!" Hunk said quickly, still holding onto Pidge's arm.

"That's probably not a bad idea," Pidge admitted.

Keith hesitated, looking reluctant to give up without finishing, but finally he nodded, "I guess we can come back another night for the last spot."

The walk to Hunk's car was uneventful, and Lance turned down the offer of a ride back to campus. He could walk home from here and being shoved in the back seat with all the ghost hunting equipment didn't seem worth the discomfort.

Also, he should probably do something about the werewolf.

He waited until the car had turned the corner before heading back towards the cemetery. He found Shiro leaning against the gate, looking rather smug.

"You really have to stop doing this," Shiro straightened as Lance approached him.

"Well, what did you think I was going to do?" Lance shrugged, "let them get eaten by a werewolf."

"He was a scrawny little guy," Shiro grinned, his fangs flashing, "it was only his second moon. I gave him a good talking to."

"Well, you are good at lecturing people," Lance snickered.

"Why are you so much trouble?" Shiro dropped an arm around Lance's shoulders, dragging him against his side, "you're going to get us caught if you keep doing things like this. Those three are smart."

"They're looking for ghosts, not vampires," Lance scoffed, "and unless we suddenly start sparkling in the sunlight, I don't think we have anything to worry about on that front."

"Still Lance, it's not safe…"

A dainty meow interrupted him, and they both looked down to find the black cat winding between their legs.

"There you are," Lance scooped her up, cuddling her against his chest, "I was wondering if you were going to come back."

She rubbed her head under Lance's chin and purred contently.

"So I found us a new cat," Lance grinned at Shiro.

"Really?" Shiro sighed and reached out to scratch her chin.

"Look at how cute she is," Lance held her up so her nose was practically touching Shiro's, "she's even cuter then a one eyed ferret."

"I miss that ferret," Shiro pushed the cat back into Lance's arms and stroked her ears.

"It's been like 20 years," Lance shook his head.

"Pete was a great pet," Shiro protested.

"You spent six years looking like a wild animal had nested in your hair," Lance rolled his eyes.

"Just give her a flea bath before you bring her inside," Shiro gave Lance a little shove to get him walking in the direction of home.

"I have to pick a name for her," Lance continued to cuddle her as they walked.

"Just call her Black," Shiro shrugged.

"This is why you're not allowed to name things," Lance snorted.

"That is a perfectly respectable name," Shiro insisted, "it fits her."

"You teach English lit, and you don't have a creative bone in your body," Lance shook his head, "how is that possible?"

"Well, what are you going to call her then?" Shiro asked.

Lance thought about it as they walked, coming to a decision as they reached the front of their apartment building, "Sayda."

"You're naming the black cat 'lucky'," Shiro snickered.

"Well, she is," Lance shrugged, "she's coming to live with me. That makes her exceptionally lucky."

"You and your strays," Shiro ruffled his hair and started up the stairs in front of him.

"I learned from the best," Lance followed him cheerfully.

* * *

Hunk frowned as he flipped through the photos he had taken of the cemetery. They hadn't really caught anything interesting in them, but as he looked through them, Hunk was realizing he hadn't gotten a single shot of Mr. McClain.

It seemed a little weird, since he had been with them the whole time, and Hunk could have sworn he had been in frame on at least a few of the shots he had taken, but he wasn't in any of them.

It was probably nothing, but Hunk couldn't help but feel a little uneasy about it. It seemed silly to say anything to Keith and Pidge about it, but maybe Hunk would just have to bring his camera to the library with him tomorrow.

It never hurt to practice after all.


	2. Final Suspicions

**Final Suspicions  
**

* * *

A/N: This is actually its own short story in the same series as "Searching for the Supernatural in All the Wrong Places," but because of how ff . net is formatted it seemed better to group them all together then post them separately.

* * *

"Uh-huh," Lance nudged Sayda off the couch so he could drop the laundry basket on it, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, "no, Shiro can't come to the phone right now. His brains are leaking out his ears."

"Leave me alone," Shiro scowled without looking up from the papers spread all over the kitchen table.

"Also he hasn't slept in three days, and he would have starved to death without me," Lance continued.

"You're such a tattletale," Shiro grumbled.

Lance grinned at him, nodding along to the voice on the phone. Sayda jumped into the laundry basket and curled up in the clean clothes, kinked tail wrapping around herself primly. Lance reached down to scratch her ears, and she started to purr.

"uh-huh," Lance responded, "I'll tell him."

"Allura says she's in charge," Lance held the phone out to Shiro, "and you have to talk to her."

"I have 150 more essays to grade, 60 short answer exams to correct, 250 grades to calculate, and apparently there's an epidemic of people who don't know the difference between and comma and a semicolon," Shiro growled, "tell Allura I'll call her later."

"One of those makes the wink-y face, doesn't it?" Lance asked innocently.

"Go file a book or something Lance," Shiro tossed a wad of paper at him.

Lance caught it, then tossed it to Sayda, whose ears had perked up at the projectile. She pounced on it, tossing it out of the laundry basket and enthusiastically following it under the couch.

"Did you catch that?" Lance said into the phone, "uh-huh, yeah, I'll tell him."

He turned back to Shiro, holding out the phone, "Allura says you're setting a bad example for your poor, sweet, impressionable little charge."

"It's been over 150 years since you were my charge," Shiro snatched the phone from him, pressing it to his ear, "can't this wait?"

While Shiro was chewed out by their clan leader for not sleeping for extended amounts of time, Lance opened up the fridge, grabbing a drink pouch with a very happy looking cartoon pig on it.

He had to admit, he found it a little odd that their blood pouches were labeled with such happy looking animals, since those animals eventually became food. He supposed it was the manufacturer's way of telling them that their animals were well cared for.

While Shiro argued with Allura on the phone about not needing sleep, and sleeping once grades were in, Lance microwaved a mug of water and dropped the pouch in to warm.

Sayda dropped the paper wad at his feet and gave a demanding meow. Lance threw it into Shiro's lap, and he blinked down at it tiredly, then yelped in surprise and nearly dropped the phone when the cat flung herself into his lap after it.

"No, no," Shiro caught the phone, putting it back to his ear, "I'm fine. Lance's cat is just trying to kill me."

Sayda gave him an indignant look and jumped off to chase after the paper again.

Lance went back to folding clothes, trying not to look too amused at Shiro's mounting frustration with Allura. He got this way at the end of pretty much every semester, and Shiro really didn't do well when he was sleep deprived. He started having nightmares, and occasionally, it lead to actual insomnia (as opposed to his own stubbornness keeping him awake).

"Lance, take the phone," Shiro waved it in his direction, "Allura wants to talk to you again."

Lance grinned and took it from him, tucking it against his ear, "uh-huh, I'll take care of it, yeah, I'll get on that too and let you know, okay, bye."

He hung up and set the phone down, then pulled the pouch out of the warm water and poked a straw into it.

"I can't believe you called Allura just to tell on me," Shiro glared.

"I did no such thing," Lance set the pouch next to him, "drink that. She called me about something totally unrelated."

"Really?" Shiro took a sip, then gave Lance a betrayed look, "Lance, this is warm."

"I know," Lance grinned, "you're going to bed. It will help you sleep."

"I'm not going to sleep. I have too much to do," Shiro sucked on the straw anyway.

"Don't make me call Allura back," Lance threatened, "eat your dinner and go to bed like a sane person, and I'll tell you why Allura called me in the first place."

Shiro weighed his options, then pushed the papers in front of him away with a huff, "what did she want?"

"She wants me to hunt through the archives downtown," Lance shooed Sayda off the laundry again, throwing a sock for her to chase since he didn't know where the paper had gone, "apparently someone found a lead on one of the amulets, and there are a couple names she wants me to track down."

"Recent names?" Shiro momentarily forgot his grumpiness.

"No," Lance shook his head, "probably at least a century old, and they're not even sure if they're people or places, but some of the town archives go back farther than that, so I can at least take a look and see what's there."

"If the names are leading back here, that means an amulet could potentially be here," Shiro mused, still drinking.

Now that he wasn't completely focused on work, he had to admit, he was hungry.

"Maybe," Lance nodded, "it's probably too early to get excited, but it's possible. With library hours extended for finals week, I won't be able to get down there until next week, so we'll see."

"It's better than nothing," Shiro yawned and rubbed his eyes tiredly, "maybe I will go get some sleep."

"It would save me another call to Allura," Lance said cheekily.

"You're such a brat," Shiro sucked the last of the blood from the pouch and stood, stretching his arms over his head, "try not to get into trouble while I'm asleep."

"I'll do my best," Lance waved him away.

After Shiro disappeared into his room, Lance scooped Sayda up and cuddled her close, "go sit on him and make sure he sleeps."

The cat purred and rubbed her head under his chin, and Lance scratched her cheeks, then set her on the ground. She meowed and trotted off towards Shiro's room.

Lance opened a bag of fried blood cakes and took Shiro's seat at the table, sorting through the papers there. Shiro would want to grade the essays himself, but there was no reason Lance couldn't grade the exams.

* * *

Pidge was sleeping with her face smashed against the open pages of a book, her glasses perched on her head. Keith has rescued them when she had fallen asleep, plucking them off her face and putting them on her head.

Keith was hidden behind a wall of books, and Hunk wouldn't have been surprised if he was sleeping too. Hunk found all the paranormal stuff fascinating, and he would love to be able to prove it was real, but he was willing to put that on hold for finals week so he could do things like study, and final projects, and sleep.

Pidge had texted him at three in the morning to tell him that someone had reported hearing voices reciting Shakespeare at the run down theater on 5th street. Hunk had handed his phone to Keith and gone back to sleep, because Keith was still awake, and he was Pidge's brother after all, so if anyone should be talking to her at three in the morning, it should be him.

They would probably go check it out after finals week though. The cemetery had been a bust, and while Keith wanted to go back, the threat of rabid animals had been enough to make Hunk and Pidge wary of it. There was no reason to think Mr. McClain would show up again to help them out.

Speaking of which, Hunk held up his cell phone, trying to make it look like he was looking something up on it, but really, he was trying to get a picture of the head librarian without him noticing. He had been trying since he realized Mr. McClain wasn't in any of the photos they had taken at the cemetery, but he hadn't managed it. Hunk could never say for certain that he hadn't moved out of the frame before the shot.

It was turning out to be very frustrating, and Keith and Pidge thought he was crazy, but there was something strange about the librarian. There just had to be. Normal people were easy to take pictures of.

Hunk snapped the picture and was excited for a moment that Mr. McClain wasn't in it, until he looked up and found that he wasn't standing where he had been either. He sighed in disappointment.

"I thought you finished your final project for your photography class already."

Hunk yelped, nearly falling out of his chair, as a stack of books fell onto the table next to his notebook. Mr. McClain was grinning down at him, his teeth looking a little sharper than they had last time Hunk had bothered to look, which granted, he didn't make a habit of, but they did seem sharp to him.

Pidge jerked upright, glasses falling off her head and drool dried on the side of her mouth, "what's going on? Where's my EMF meter?"

Keith reached around the wall of books to pat her shoulder. Apparently, he had been awake, and he didn't even look up from reading.

"I did," Hunk said in a rush, "I mean I turned it in, but I still think I could have done a few more shots from the zoo, but overall I think it…"

He glanced up and realized Mr. McClain was teasing him.

"It never hurts to keep practicing," Hunk finished.

"Right," Mr. McClain looked like he didn't really believe him, "pass these to your Babylonian obsessed friend down at the end."

"I'm not obsessed!" Keith objected, even as he reached eagerly for the books.

"Says the kid who has taken three classes on it and just applied to be let into the grad level class," Mr. McClain smirked at him.

"How do you know that?" Keith demanded.

"The teachers pass notes to each other in the hall," Mr. McClain deadpanned, "also I've helped you find the resources for the last five papers you've written on it."

"Oh yeah," Keith flipped open the first book, setting it on top of the already open book in front him, "thanks."

"You're welcome," Mr. McClain snorted, "now someone put the shrimp to bed before she drools on all my books."

"Are you calling me short?" Pidge demanded, squinting, then looking around for her glasses.

Keith picked them up off the table where they had fallen and handed them to her without looking up from his book.

"Yes," Mr. McClain said.

"I am not…" Pidge started to protest, only to be interrupted by Keith.

"Don't make him angry," Keith turned the page of his book, "I need him to find me more books."

"I need to teach you how to use a card catalogue, kid," Mr. McClain rolled his eyes.

"I know how to use a card catalogue," Keith finally looked up from his book to scowl at him, "the real question is why you insist on using one when this whole library is catalogued digitally."

"Zombie apocalypse," Lance said without missing a beat, "when civilization as we know it ends, my library will still be well organized."

"Viral or supernatural zombies?" Hunk asked seriously.

"Both," Lance grinned, "not that it matters; I'll know where all my books are."

"It has to be viral," Pidge folded her arms across her chest, "the idea that there could be a supernatural effect on the scale required to cause an apocalypse is just ludicrous."

"Weren't most apocalypses predicted to be supernatural until like 200 years ago?" Keith frowned at her.

"Yes, but now we have science to kill us instead," Mr. McClain said cheerfully.

"Can I vote for nobody dying?" Hunk asked.

"Good luck with that," Mr. McClain patted his shoulder, then went to help a student who looked on the verge of tears because he couldn't reach a book on the top shelf.

"I couldn't get his picture again," Hunk frowned down at his phone.

Pidge yawned and glanced at the unremarkable photo of a bookshelf, "I think it's a lost cause, Hunk. Plus, if you keep it up, he's going to start thinking you're a creepy stalker or something."

"He's just the librarian," Keith shook his head, "he's really good at tracking down sources, but there's nothing weird about him."

"Yes there is," Hunk grumbled under his breath and went back to pouring over his calculus book.

* * *

"So did you get them all in?" Lance flopped down on the couch beside Shiro, cup of blood pudding in his hand.

"Yes," Shiro didn't lift his head from where it was resting against the couch back, "remind me again why I keep doing this?"

"You like to torture yourself," Lance kicked his bare feet up on the coffee table.

"No, that's why I keep you around," Shiro smirked.

"See if I share my pudding with you," Lance made a show of licking his spoon.

"You never share your pudding," Shiro nudged him with his shoulder.

"You always give me reasons not to," Lance shrugged.

"I'd be offended if I had the energy," Shiro slumped a little harder against Lance, trying to push him over.

Lance patted his head and ate another spoonful of pudding.

"Don't you have work to do now that finals are over?" Shiro grumbled.

"I do," Lance nodded cheerfully, "I wanted to make sure the students hadn't killed you yet. Also pudding."

Shiro narrowed his eyes and without warning, dug his fingers into Lance's side, cackling when Lance shrieked with laughter and dropped his spoon.

"Not the pudding!" he tried to hold the cup out of Shiro's reach.

They tumbled off the couch, landing on the floor with a thump, and Shiro managed to snatch the pudding cup from Lance, scrambling back and using his finger to scoop out what was left of the pudding.

"That's cheating!" Lance laughed.

"That's what you get for being stingy with the pudding," Shiro grinned at him.

While Shiro and Lance continued to poke at each other, Sayda gave them an aloof look and daintily licked the spoon clean.

* * *

Keith swore he didn't snore. Hunk had even videotaped him snoring once and shown it to him, and he had still denied it, claiming that he had had a cold, so it didn't count.

Pidge had told Hunk Keith had been in denial about it since he was eight.

He was snoring away now, one arm hanging over the edge of the top bunk and blankets kicked off on the floor.

Hunk shook his head in amusement and picked up the blanket, tossing it back over Keith and pushing his arm back onto the bunk so his hand wouldn't fall asleep.

They had all passed their classes, but Keith and Pidge had insisted on going on a ghost hunt mid-week and ended up having to scramble to get everything done. Hunk had passed on that particular hunt, and not been sad about it when the two of them had come back with no evidence, sticky, and covered in feathers. He had decided it was best not to ask.

A phone chirped, and Hunk glanced over to see a text from Pidge on Keith's phone. He glanced at Keith, but he didn't even stir. The text said Pidge had another lead on a supposedly haunted convenience store. Hunk looked at Keith again, snoring away, and picked up his own phone to answer her.

He told Pidge Keith was asleep, and she probably should be asleep too, and whatever it was, the ghosts weren't going to disappear between now and next weekend.

Pidge's grumpy response told Hunk that she really did need sleep. He told her as much and got an even grumpier response. He texted back _feathers_.

It was a couple minutes before she replied. When she did, Hunk had to grin. It was a true talent to get that much sullenness across in a text message. She said she was going to take a nap.

Hunk glanced at Keith, then to his camera where it was sitting on his desk. The library was still open, and it wouldn't hurt to go do some research on the site Pidge said she wanted to look at.

And if Mr. McClain was there, then maybe he could finally get a photo of him.

Or not.

Hunk wasn't sure what would be better, but he was going to keep trying until he found out.


End file.
